Hero
by FirstLastName
Summary: A true hero puts others before himself. Puts his own safety and well-being aside in order to help others. Heroes are known for their sacrifices. But when do the sacrifices become to much?
1. Chapter 1

He kept a carefully detailed under his notebook. In it was every newspaper clipping that mentioned Batman. All of them talked about all the lives he saved the people he helped. Articles that were filled with quotes from people finally glad someone was taking care of Gotham's crime problem. How people looked up to him and saw him as a hero, as a beacon of hope. He kept this all in a notebook hidden under his bed. And on his bad days, on his really bad days, where he couldn't get out of bed. Couldn't even fake a smile and pretend everything's ok. On those days where he just wanted to curl up and cry. Tell someone, tell anyone of the abuse he had suffered so they would take him away from this horrible place. On those days, on those very bad days, he would take the notebook out and read every story. Every single story. And think to himself how much Batman has done for Gotham. How much hope he brings to people. And while he read all those stories he would think how horrible of a person he would be if he were to take that hope away. How unfair he would allow other people to suffer just so he wouldn't have to. He would remind himself that he, Grayson, is a hero. And how real heroes put others people safety before their own. He would tell this to himself over and over. He would tell it till he was all cried out, till all the tears dried from his face. Till he was able to put on a smile and pretend once again everything was ok.


	2. Chapter 2

The first week when you were at the manor he ignored you completely. Besides training and patrolling you barely saw him. At first it didn't annoy you. You didn't expect him to become like a dad to you. You had a dad and you didn't need or want someone to replace him. But still you couldn't help feeling lonely. The house felt so quiet, especially since Bruce seemed to always be away at work and Alfred seemed only to appear to clean up messes or prepare food. Back at the circus there was never a quiet moment. There was always something to do, you were surrounded by people and animals. Here at the manor you were just by yourself. All alone.

Their deaths finally started to hit you around the second week. The realization your parents are dead, that you were never going to see them again. You cried yourself to sleep that night. It became a ritual. After patrol, when you get into bed you would finally let your emotions show. Crying for hours, thinking about all the good times you had with your parents.

One night was particularly bad, you messed up on a patrol bad. Nearly killed yourself by being reckless and stupid. To say Bruce was mad would be an understatement. The whole ride home you could feel his anger and frustration at you. As soon as you got into the house you just went straight to your room. Not being in the mood for one of his lectures. Part of you expect him to follow you. Tell you off for being careless. Lecture you about being more careful. At least yell at you for not following orders. He didn't. For some reason this made you more upset. _Of course he's not coming up here. Not like he actually cares about me. _You thought bitterly. The tears started to form in your eyes. _Not like he actually thinks of me as a son._ You started to cry, first it was soft silent tears that soon turned into gut-wrenching sobs. You don't remember how long you were crying before he came to check on you. He didn't say anything, just sat down on the bed next to you, pulled you into a hug and started rubbing your back. _Just like mom used to do. _This thought just made you cry harder. The whole time he didn't say anything, just held you. Only after you were all cried out did he say anything. "It's ok. I know how you feel. I miss my parents too," he said. "It's hard losing people you care about," he continued. "You must feel so alone. Especially during the day, all by yourself in the house." Your throat was sore from all the crying so you could only nod in agreement. You remember him pulling you in closer, you remember thinking even at that moment the way he was pulling you closer made you feel uncomfortable. "If you want." He said breathing into your ear," I could spend more time with you. Cut back on work. Would you like that?" You don't know what exactly made the situation feel wrong to you. The fact he was holding you too tightly, the way he talked, in a low and hushed voice, as if what he was saying was supposed to be s secret keep between the two of you. Or the way his hand was slowly going up your leg. The whole situation felt wrong and dirty. Part of you wanted to tell him to leave but you were too scared to move. "Would you like that, me spending more time with you? So you won't have to feel so alone." Part of you wanted to say no. Tell him to leave. Tell him you felt uncomfortable. But another part of you didn't. Because as much as you felt crept out, as much as you felt this whole situation was wrong, a part of you wanted him to stay. Ever since your parents death you felt so alone. You barely talked to anyone. Alfred was always off cleaning something and the only time Bruce ever talked to you was about training or a mission. A part of you was dying for some human contact. For someone to give you attention. So even though a big part of you wanted to day no, you didn't. Instead you said yes.


End file.
